What if China Had Bought Newsweek?

The news that bidders for Newsweek included China’s Southern Media Group—a bid that was rejected—has left all sides a bit insulted. For Newsweek, the prospect of being bought by a company in the world’s No. 2 jailer of journalists (Iran is number one) appears to have been too grim to take seriously. For American journalists generally, the implication that our industry is edging toward a fire sale was not especially welcome. And, for the Chinese bidders, it sounds like they’ve been stung by the sense that they were not treated as legitimate prospects. As Xiang Xi, executive editor of Southern Weekly, part of the Southern Media Group, put it in an interview with an Anhui paper: “[T]he seller genuinely does not comprehend the desires of idealistic Chinese media workers and institutions.” (Translated by Global Voices.) Moreover, he said, “Even though the purchase of Newsweek failed, the search for investments will continue.” He encouraged “any media of global influence” that may be interested to drop him a line. He even provided his e-mail address: xiangxi100@hotmail.com.

The fact is that neither side truly understands the other in this case. The prospective buyers are not wrong that they have a right to bid on an American news organization, but they are wrong that they had the remotest shot of succeeding. For the moment, the spiritual gap between them and American news organizations is larger than even the most sober Chinese media baron probably imagines. A sale of this kind is, for the moment, beyond imagination.

But it’s also true that Xiang Xi is not being cynical when he says that most Americans don’t grasp the “desires of idealistic Chinese media workers.” Much of the discussion about the Newsweek bid has been about the Chinese government’s campaign to project “soft power” abroad, and that is relevant. But that is also losing sight of some nuances in the world of Chinese media. Like every newspaper in China, those in the Southern Media Group are owned by the state, and the party appoints the top editors. But the Southern Media Group is not the People’s Daily, and the differences are worth acknowledging.

The Southern Newspaper Group was an oasis of open-minded thinking in the state’s hidebound media empire, and it was known for pushing the limits within the propaganda apparatus. Its most daring publication, a paper based in Guangzhou named the Southern Weekend was winning readers and inspiring journalists across the country by showing how aggressive reporting and elegant writing could be possible despite censorship. On the Communist organization charts, the Group was part of the propaganda bureaucracy, but it also occupied a special place in the informal web of interest groups that made up the party. Ideologically, it was a camp for the party’s liberal wing. The editors of its newspapers were heirs to a tradition that began in 1957 during the Hundred Flowers Movement, when their predecessors launched a paper that gave voice to opinions that differed from the party line. One of the founders … argued that even if political conditions made it impossible for journalists to always write the truth, they should at least refuse to publish lies. Generation after generation, the editors of the Southern Newspaper Group tried to live up to that standard.”

In 2003, one of the Southern Group’s editors, Cheng Yizhong, dared to publish an investigation into the death of Sun Zhigang, a young graphic designer who died in police custody after a beating—a report that led to the discovery and closure of a nationwide network of seven hundred underground police-run detention camps—an astonishing case of the Chinese press influencing national policy. But, as Pan wrote, Cheng was detained for doing it; he spent five months in a detention center and now works in a low-profile media job. His two colleagues were sentenced to long jail terms. Before he went to jail, he gave a speech to his staff that included this line: “Whatever happens, we must not give up the values and beliefs of the Southern Metropolis Daily. We have reason to be proud.”

It was a courageous sentiment from someone working in a profoundly imperfect system. I wouldn’t want to be owned by them either, and I don’t expect it will happen anytime soon. But, let’s not sneer too much. As colleagues in a business that is tough enough, Chinese journalists deserve our respect.

Evan Osnos joined The New Yorker as a staff writer in 2008, and covers politics and foreign affairs.